


The Bad Habits

by Nhitori



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Multi, No Smut, Noncon Shimadacest, Trans Character, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 15:25:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8758396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nhitori/pseuds/Nhitori
Summary: You might say it's self-indulgent, you might say it's self-destructive- 
   There are three people in the world who know that Hanzo Shimada did more than just kill his brother.    But you see it's more productive than if I were to be happy Hana Song spirals out of control as she reaches further and further to feel loved.    Bland accounts of two lovers meeting make me want to give mankind a beating  Satya Vaswani learns that Vishkar only cares as long as it's convenient to them.   Even if I quit, there's not a chance in Hell I'd stop





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey I hope you like my weird angst AU. Peace out.

It was unbecoming of his status.

 

Those were the words which Genji Shimada so often heard from his elder brother. Unbecoming. That was a funny term to him; it implied ugliness. As far as Genji was concerned, well, he was a rather attractive man. Sure, Hanzo got all the babes who were looking for a stoic, hardened masculinity in their men, but Genji got just about anyone else. The guys and girls who wanted somebody pretty, or sensitive, or laid-back. Of course, as much as these things helped him out socially, Genji supposed that they were… Unbecoming, with his position in mind.

 

The future leader of a family-business crime syndicate should not have been pretty, or sensitive, or as laid-back as Genji was, yet he was picked, even against tradition. Hanzo was the eldest, Hanzo followed all the rules and did as he was told. Everything about him seemed that he would be the better heir, and Hanzo was certain he would be, until the title somehow fell to Genji. It didn’t make sense to him. There was nothing, he thought, in himself that was unbecoming for a leader, and everything in Genji that made him unfit for the role.

 

The happy days were the ones when Hanzo still thought the responsibility lay on his shoulders. He watched out for his younger brother, protected him against the world, and Genji looked up to him. Idolized him, wanted to be like him but didn’t ever care to try to build that similarity. He didn’t become strong. He didn’t become intelligent. He didn’t bother, because did it matter? Hanzo spoiled him. Everyone did. Mother did, before she died. Father tried to undo the work of those two which made Genji into such a softie, but didn’t get anywhere.

 

It was Hanzo who shielded him from everything, and from those words which his father said with such ire, such bile, “If my son was going to be so girlish anyhow, why not just remain my daughter?”. It was an annoyance expressed not at Genji, but at the world which had proved him to indeed be a Shimada brother, but it nonetheless stung him. He didn’t feel that there was anything in his behavior that stood out as a feminine trait. Disliking the ultra-violence he was often forced to witness when somebody got on his father’s bad side? Being unable to engage in such behavior himself, causing Hanzo to step in and do it for him? Those were cowardly, maybe. Pathetic, sure, but… Not feminine. Genji was sure of this, because he’d met plenty of girls who were stronger of will than he. It was just a trait of his own.

 

Genji played video games instead of participating in sports, he skipped out on weapons practice for fear of being injured with the practice swords, there were a number of things he did which he knew to be useless, and it didn’t matter to him. After all, Hanzo was there. There to protect him, and there to lead the Shimada clan when their father eventually passed on or retired. There was nothing which made him believe that he ever needed to give even half a damn about family affairs. Nothing until the day that Genji was, despite all of that, determined to be the more suitable leader.

 

It wasn’t that he didn’t try, when it became clear he needed to, it was that he didn’t know how to try. So many years of ignoring the potential of responsibilities, and he hadn’t the faintest clue of what to do to live up to the expectations which were so suddenly thrust upon him. Besides, he couldn’t give up on getting to tier one in the new love live event, couldn’t let his scores on the arcade machines slip. Those were responsibilities too! At least, he’d considered them such for so long that it turned out to be a tough habit to break. He stopped playing one game, though. He didn’t remember the name, but he knew that he avoided it from that day on. The day that Hanzo first said those words.

 

“Tch,” Hanzo had noted as he walked up to Genji in the arcade, put a hand on his shoulder and narrowed his eyes, “Playing games again? Does the seriousness of our family’s current situation not get through to you?”

 

“It gets through to me just fine…” Genji muttered, not even looking away from the screen, “But it’s not something that I can do anything about, at least, not right now. So I’m going about life as normal. Anyway, once I’m actually in charge wouldn’t that give me the authority to defer the title to you instead?”

 

“Genji!” Hanzo sounded taken aback as he tugged on his brother’s shoulder, turning him away from the console, “This is the action taken by a boy, not by a man. It is unbecoming.”

 

“Look, I understand we’re in some deep trouble right now, but I don’t understand it, and I don’t understand what I’m supposed to do. It’s not like I’ve prepared for this,” Genji frowned, glancing away. He was being too confrontational, it would only aggravate Hanzo more, so he softened his voice, “I’m… Clueless. I don’t know why, I don’t comprehend why I’m supposed to be in charge.”

 

Hanzo’s nostrils flared, but then he released his grip and brushed off the fabric on the shoulder he’d just been holding onto and sighed. It was a heavy sigh, much too world-weary for his age, “I know. I’m the one who knows what I’m doing. And it isn’t your fault they chose you over me, and it isn’t your fault that mother and I have spoiled you so badly that you’ve become useless.”

 

There was something in the way Hanzo said that which stung like nettles. The word ‘become’ was as if Genji had ever once in his life been useful, but it was put in more like a courtesy. Of course, what had he done to be deserving of anything? Even the fact that people accepted his gender was only because of the dragons. The dragons which mirrored that story of two brothers, and if this was true, then of course Genji really was Hanzo’s brother. He had never needed to struggle or try for anything. A brat who lay around the house during the day and went out at night to kiss a lot of boys and girls alike, casanova that he was.

 

Nonetheless, Genji kept his voice soft as he met Hanzo’s eyes, his own nearly closed, “Well in that case, Brother, maybe it is time you stopped spoiling me. And, perhaps instead, you could teach me to be the person who I ought to?”

 

“I can stop spoiling you, yes, but I cannot teach you how to be. I know only my own journey, and that ended in failure. You will need to go to the elders to find out what it is that they truly want from you,” Hanzo crossed his arms with another sigh, all the weight of the world in that one breath, “Since it seems, I know next to nothing. I cannot teach you, only be sure to push you towards a more proper path.”

 

“What, I have to talk to _them_?” Genji whined, but shut up and straightened up at a disapproving glare from his brother, “Right, yes. Mature. No… Unbecoming behavior.”

 

With that potentially passive-aggressive statement, Genji was gone from view, leaving Hanzo alone in the arcade next to that console. He glanced over to take a look at the title. Fighters of the Storm. With a shrug, he wandered away, walking through the gardens. Admittedly, he was lying to Genji. His bitterness was there all the same, of course. His father’s dying breath which told him that Genji should lead beside him… it felt like a slap in the face, but he could not disobey an order like that. Even if it meant telling Genji that their father had named him the heir instead; it seemed that was the only hope Hanzo had of getting him to be anyone worth working with. If Genji had the pressure placed on him of being the sole heir, then perhaps he’d become good enough to be one of two leaders.

 

Even so… Hanzo found himself filled with spite at the idea that he alone was not good enough for his father. That his precious and fragile little brother’s counsel could be considered necessary to begin with, even after years of uselessness. Hanzo didn’t begrudge his brother for this uselessness though. Rather, he’d preferred it when they were growing up. He could take on the burdens, and Genji would remain… Relatively safe. Nonetheless, it was a sort of uselessness which became apparrent when suddenly, it was important that he became a fit leader.

 

Hanzo knew that he could do it alone, of course, with just a few words. Just tell Genji the truth, and he’ll go to the elders and tell them that he can’t do it, just leave it to Hanzo, and that would be the end of it. The end of the confusion, and the end of Genji Shimada. Putting this pressure on him was the only way, living with this bitterness was the only way that Hanzo could keep his brother alive, even as the unconditional love he’d shown over the years was rotting in his heart.

 

Hanzo would never know exactly what was said between Genji and the council, who were the highest authority in the interim while the last leader’s children were still training, learning, and above all else proving themselves and their loyalty. Their dedication; and it would take a lot for Hanzo to prove Genji’s nonexistent dedication, but he would do it. Though he was beginning to suspect his father’s words were merely a way to get Genji killed, get him out of the way, with that one out as an off chance that the younger Shimada shaped up.

 

Genji approached Hanzo with a reserved air after returning from his conversation, biting his lower lip until he got closer and spoke, even quieter than before. This wasn’t an affected softness put into his voice to get under his brother’s skin, but a real one that carried a level of sadness and real confusion, “They say that the only responsibility I need to take on is that of carrying on the Shimada line.”

 

“That…” Hanzo responded, voice at a low mumble. No, that didn’t seem right. Not at all. What were they thinking? He pushed past Genji without another word, not running, but walking very fast. He reached them in record time, even without the running. Nobody was ever very eager to speak with Elders of the Shimada clan, but this time, it was aggression rather than eagerness which drove him. He threw the door open and shouted immediately, respect thrown to the wind, “What sort of nonsense are you telling my brother!?”

 

“...No nonsense,” One of them answered, eyebrows raised, “Explain this disordinance.”

 

“Only if you explain yourselves,” Hanzo crossed his arms, “I will respect my elders, but not when you so blatantly disrespect my brother. What sort of a responsibility is that?”

 

“One that should be easy for even him to carry out,” Another spoke up with a condescending shrug, “You want to fulfill your father’s wishes, don’t you? We’ve given you an easy way out. He can be a responsible member of the Shimada clan, and continue living, without even needing to learn to be somebody useful.”

 

“This isn’t exactly… Easy,” Hanzo muttered, rubbing his arms as if he’d suddenly become cold, “Not for him. Don’t you realize that he’d hate himself if he had to carry a child?”

 

“Isn’t nine months of misery better than death?” Yet another one of them spoke now, and his aggressive posturing faded in full at the statement, as the weight of it sunk in. It was a threat, as was what followed, “In fact, if you want him to live, then it’s probably in your best interest to push him in the direction of any worthy suitors.”

 

It was one month later, with those words trapped in his head, that Hanzo exploded. It was not a literal explosion, though that may have been preferable, but an internal explosion built on two parts situation to ten parts emotion. In his lie of being shafted, he’d begun to think on it himself. Why wasn’t he suitable alone, if that was the truth, if this wasn’t just a ploy to get Genji killed? Well, he knew that. He was too impulsive. Too quick to anger, much too hot-blooded. These were things which he knew as shortcomings in himself, hence why he pursued a stoic nature. If he could become unfeeling, he would never need to worry about letting those feelings get the better of him. It didn’t work as planned. Rather, it just let those emotions ferment.

 

The love for his brother which was rotting within him, the fear he felt, the bitterness and confusion. All of these were things that could spur him to unsavory actions, but together, there was no could. They would make him do something he’d regret, and he knew this even as he kept trying to bury them. The inexplicable jealousy he felt each time Genji made a play as if to go on a date with somebody the council would approve, only to find some way or another to ditch him. It was always men, because as much as it could be frowned on to see someone important with another man, it wasn’t as if the majority of girls had the ability to impregnate a trans man.

 

It was the dead of night when Hanzo’s explosion occurred, when something inside him broke. Perhaps it was a dream he’d been having which pushed him to the breaking point, but he could no longer remember that dream. Only the feeling that he awoke with. A dreadful, horrible, disgusting feeling that he knew he couldn’t act on, even as he did. _Why should anybody have his precious brother but him_? That was the impulse which made him stand up. _If he doesn’t have a child soon, he will be killed_. That was the impulse which brought him to Genji’s room. _He looks beautiful when he’s sleeping_. The impulse which led Hanzo to do something horrible.

 

Genji woke up, midway through it. He shouted, and he cried, but Hanzo didn’t stop. The crying stopped, he’d fallen asleep again, shutting down. Trying to believe it was a nightmare somehow, or maybe it was just an instinctual way to find some escape from the horrifying situation he’d woken up to. However, he knew it wasn’t a dream when he woke the next morning, woke for real. Hanzo was gone, but the evidence of what he’d done wasn’t. That morning was full of confusion for Genji; He wouldn’t leave his room. He cried, and threw up, and hit his head against the wall. He couldn’t understand why. Why Hanzo would do something like this.

 

Hanzo himself couldn’t understand either, but he knew he’d made a terrible mistake. The worst kind of mistake. A mistake which he could never remedy, and a mistake which was unbecoming of his status. Those words had turned on him, wrapped around his neck like a snake and bitten him all while he choked; and even so, he realized that’s what he had done. Each time he spoke those words, it was the same. He was loosing that snake on his younger brother, and now he had done the worst thing that he could have done in this situation. It was a swirl of emotions, an impulse, but he acted on that impulse.

 

He had that impulse in the first place, and that was the worst part. He wasn’t supposed to feel that way, he wasn’t supposed to think of such things as defiling his brother. Some part of him didn’t want him to feel guilty, told him that it was a necessary evil. A child would be born, and Genji would live, but what sort of life was this, what had Hanzo condemned him to? Even so, he was concerned for himself too. Genji could tell somebody. That was something which he couldn’t answer to. He would die; that’s what would happen. He wouldn’t even need to kill himself, or be killed, he would just drop dead if there was a person alive who knew what happened.

 

A person alive.

 

A person _alive_.

 

Hanzo didn’t rush to speak with the council. Of course not; he wouldn’t rush for this. He knew Genji hadn’t left his room yet, so he had time. Time to make the second biggest mistake of his life. Even going into it, he knew that he would regret this, but it was the lesser tarnishing of his honor. Telling a lie. He walked in, solemn, and spoke with a voice unwavering, “It seems that my brother is never going to cooperate.”

 

They watched him, watched for any hint of untruth, but he was determined. This was the best thing to do. For himself, and… for Genji. After all, he thought, wasn’t death better than living with the truth of the previous night? It was a self-centered decision, based on his own ideals of honor, but thus were all his decisions. He was not ready to die yet, himself, so this was the only way to salvage any dredge of respect for the Shimada clan. He could not kill himself, and he could not let any living person but himself hold this knowledge.

 

Hanzo was expecting that they would decide Genji needed to die. He was not expecting that they would order him to do the deed. Nonetheless, he could not disobey. That was not something that he could do. He returned to Genji’s room. He opened the door slowly, and watched as a look of terror came over Genji. He unsheathed his sword. He always was the better swordsman. The better son. The better leader. If only he had been the better person.

 

He already knew that after this, he could never hold a sword again.

 

Genji didn’t even beg for mercy. Just sat there, staring, until the first hit. His face contorted in a grimace. He was always afraid of being injured. He could never handle pain like this. Unfortunately for him, Hanzo was uncertain. Hesitation left shallow gashes, until he finally resolved to finish the deed. He didn’t stop when Genji was dead. Kept hacking. Kept going. It wasn’t an act of malice, but one of instability. Just as he was tearing his brother apart, he was falling to pieces himself. He watched as one green dragon appeared, for a moment, only to dissipate into the atmosphere. With that, he dropped his sword by the body, and left it alone.

 

\---------

 

When Angela arrived on the scene, she stared at his body for a long time. It was a wreck, a mess, the worst she’d ever seen. How was she even supposed to bring him back, when he was in so many pieces? He’d been carved up like a turkey. Even for all she’d seen in her life, she could barely handle the sight.

 

However, first and foremost, she had her order. She took a deep breath and knelt down beside his body, then set to work on two things. Performing an autopsy, and divising a plan to bring him back while she worked. She knew Overwatch wanted him for his position and skills, not out of the kindness of their hearts, but on a personal level… She didn’t want to let a man die like this.

 

Especially not when she discovered that there was more to it than murder.

 

Angela Ziegler had a keen eye; that was part of how she’d become a renowned doctor so quickly. She could determine the smallest of details, even when somebody clearly tried very hard to cover it up. There were signs of a certain type of violence. Something which she could not forgive. Fighting was one thing, she disliked it, but understood the necessity. This was… An unnecessary cruelty, she was sure of it.

 

Regardless, she’d finished assessing the problems, and applied a patch to his face, one of the only parts of him that was mostly intact. Those wounds were hesitation marks, though she was shocked that a murder this brutal could even have those. The killer seemed quite sure of himself. While she worked, though, she had come up with a plan. She’d need help; there was no way she’d attempt to repair this body on her own. She could bring him back from the dead, but only if he was mostly… replaced. A large prosthetics project, but she was sure it could be handled by somebody back at Watchpoint.

 

In his own room, Hanzo saw something out of the corner of his eye. Through two layers of screen, it wasn’t common to see much, but he could see a bright yellow glow. Suspicious; and confusing. What could be producing a light like that? It couldn’t be a dragon… Even if it was just a lamp of some sort, somebody must have turned it on. Nobody could be in there. Not yet; he’d made a mess of the corpse, yes, but he would have known if anyone else here had wanted to see the body. There was an intruder.

 

With the patch applied, Angela started to stand up so she could try her best to move him, but as soon as she glanced up from the corpse she saw somebody standing before her. Hanzo Shimada. She immediately recognized him as Genji’s killer, and with her newfound knowledge, anger grew within her, “You did this,” She started, then drew her pistol and pointed it at him. It was for self-defense, but right now, “You did all of this.”

 

And that was when Hanzo knew that he would have to kill again.

 

This mysterious angel-woman knew too much. However, before he could attack, she made the first move, much to his surprise. She didn’t look as if she’d actually shoot.

 

Nonetheless, she fired at him, but he was too agile for her, and her pulses simply hit the screens and lit them up till they burned away, revealing the hallway, but not yet the outside. He dodged, clambered up a wall, then wordlessly drew his bow and aimed an arrow towards her. She glared back and aimed her gun, so he fired, as did she. The arrow burned up in her pulse, and she watched as he scoffed. This man, who had done such horrible things, scoffed at her. She tightened her shoulders even more and launched herself in his direction, only for him to nock again in record time. She shot down the one which was aimed directly at her as before, but he’d wised up. Just as she was reaching him, a scatter arrow pierced her back, and she dropped to the ground with a yelp. The other arrows tore holes in the outer screens, and the breeze worked its way inside.

 

When she opened her eyes, she saw his feet. He was practically standing over her, and she felt fear course through her body at the sight. He narrowed his eyes, and finally spoke to her, “I am _not_ fond of killing,” His words were measured, and he was prepared to shoot her again, “But you, doctor, you know _far_ too much. I can answer to this murder. I cannot answer… to your other discoveries. So I’m afraid I must take your life. Shame. Even he put up a better fight,” Hanzo was of course, referring to the emotional qualms he had, seeing as Angela actually did defend herself physically where Genji hadn't. Nonetheless, she was just like any other enemy of the Shimada clan, in Hanzo's eyes. No hesitation.

 

Angela grimaced and squeezed her eyes shut, “You’re despicable.”

 

“...Ryuu ga waga teki wo kurau,” Hanzo hissed through his teeth. This was definitely overkill.


End file.
